


The Cycle Of The Golden Apple

by roryheadmav



Category: Real Person Fiction, Tomki - Fandom, frostpudding - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Reincarnation, tothetwelve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 18:12:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roryheadmav/pseuds/roryheadmav
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki falls in love with a mortal, but his actions to keep him by his side for all eternity backfires because of Idunn's curse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cycle Of The Golden Apple

**Author's Note:**

> This is the FULL VERSION of my entry to tothetwelve's reincarnation fanfic contest. Actually, I've long been plotting this story inside my head. In the tale, I wanted Loki to meet all the characters that Tom played in TV and film...until I saw that I had to create a timeline for the characters. The contest gave me the impetus to write it, but as it usually happens with me, I wrote a monster. :/
> 
> Suffice to say, next time, I WILL NOT be severely editing a story that was originally intended for a longer length to meet a shorter word limit. 
> 
> Pardon if there are any errors in this. Been doing a deadline and this for the past 5-6 hours since 1:30 am and I'm now practically cross-eyed.

**THE CYCLE OF THE GOLDEN APPLE**

**Copyright April 1, 2014 by Rory**

 

It never occurred to Loki to wonder why he pursued the throne of Asgard with such obsessive tenacity. He had told his not-brother Thor that he was meant to rule. When he faced the Allfather, following his fall into humiliating disgrace on Midgard, he had declared fiercely that the throne was his birthright.

 

"Your birthright was to die!" Odin shouted with ferocious bluntness at him. However, had he seen a glint of sorrow flash through the Allfather's one good eye?

 

After aiding Thor in his quest to rid his human lover of the Aether in Svartalfheim, Loki returned to Asgard in the guise of an Einherjar with the intent of taking Hlidskjalf, by force if necessary. It did not surprise him that the Allfather saw through his disguise; what did was Odin's relinquishing the throne to him so easily. And it was this easy capitulation which aroused the Trickster's suspicion.

 

"Why are you giving it to me now? What is it you're not telling me, Old Man?"

 

The Allfather's mysterious answer before succumbing to the Odinsleep was, "Through your honorable conduct, you have earned the right to sit on Hlidskjalf. Use well the knowledge that it will give you."

 

Loki saw nothing that first time he sat on the throne, while disguised as the Allfather and listening to Thor reject the kingship in order to be with Jane Foster on Earth. Still, it did not escape his notice the knowing smile that curled up his brother's lips.

 

The second time that Loki took to the throne was in the quiet hours of the night. Respectfully caressing that gilded seat, he swore on Hlidskjalf that he would be a better king than the Allfather. Then, he settled down on the throne, leaning back against the seat, and opened himself to all the Nine Realms.

 

Hlidskjalf, however, opened his mind and heart to a painful memory from a long forgotten past. A memory which had been forcefully wrenched from his soul by the formidable magic of the Allfather and trapped within the throne.

 

Loki lurched to his feet from that golden seat, only to fall to his knees. With tears pouring from his eyes and dripping onto the cold floor between his clenched fists, the Trickster whispered a name he had not spoken in millennia.

 

"Thomas."

 

 

_It was on one of his secret trips to Midgard that Loki met Thomas. He had been stealing into the underground library of a hermitic tribe of druids in order to read their tomes of magic. At that time, a small band of Jotuns had decided to steal the ancient books for themselves. As Loki was creeping through the library, he found a druid in dark, hooded robes defending the tomes from the Frost Giants with a slim long sword. Although Loki had no intention of intruding into a fight that the human was very much equipped to deal with, he ultimately entered the fray when the hood fell from the druid's head and the God of Mischief at last beheld his face. Together, they dispatched the Jotuns with ease._

_The druid then knelt at his feet and bowed to him, his curly golden hair twinkling in the torchlight._

_"My name is Thomas, my Lord Loki," the druid introduced himself, a shy smile on his lips. Indeed, at that moment, not only was Loki struck by their uncanny likeness to each other, but he was also in awe of the young man's intellect and perceptiveness which he could glean in his keen blue gray eyes. Thomas tilted his head to the side, peering with intense curiosity at the Norse deity before him. "I am in your debt. How may I be of service to you? Is it knowledge you seek, Lord Trickster? Or…may I offer you something else?"_

_The mortal not only shared the sacred tomes with him; Thomas selflessly gave himself to the god with such eagerness and joy on that day and on the days that followed whenever Loki needed his companionship and the comforting warmth of his body. While he could not deny that he had affections for Thor back then which could not be misconstrued as brotherly, his bond with Thomas all but overwhelmed this desire. It would take time before Loki realized that he had fallen deeply in love with the mortal, and Thomas loved him back just as much._

_Such was Loki's love for him that he suggested to Thomas one twilit evening, as they sat hand in hand on top of a freshly hewn rock slab surrounded by a stone circle, to go with him to Asgard and take his place at his side as his consort._

_Thomas sadly shook his head. "What you are suggesting is forbidden, Loki. As happy as I am that you come to me here, I too worry about you and what the Allfather might do if he finds out about us."_

_"I won't let him harm you, Thomas," Loki vowed, instinctively strengthening the magical barrier that shielded them from Heimdall's sight._

_The mortal cupped his cold cheeks in the heat of his palms and kissed him with aching tenderness. "You misunderstand. I'm not afraid for myself. It is you whom I fear for. I could not bear it if you are punished because of me." He smiled reassuringly. "Besides, Death comes to all mortals like me. Whether it is by Odin's hand, disease, battle, or something else, I've accepted its inevitability."_

_But the thought of losing his lover was, to Loki, utterly unacceptable._

_It was then that the idea came to him like the dim flash of a firefly's light in the darkness. Although Loki had often concealed his thoughts and emotions from Thor and the other Asgardians, and sometimes Odin himself, he could never do the same with Thomas._

_The mortal threw him a sharp warning glower. "No, Loki. I will not have you steal a golden apple from Idunn's orchard." Loki opened his mouth to argue, only to be stopped by a raised, stern finger. "And even if you do succeed in stealing one, I will not eat it." Thomas took the pouting Trickster's hand and squeezed it. "My love, you revealed to me before that even the Aesir die. What makes us different is your longevity. Death is part of the natural order, regardless of one's life span. I don't want to think of Death as the end though. I'd like to believe that there is a beautiful world beyond, where you and I can live together forever in peace and happiness."_

_A different thought, however, was running through Loki's mind._ If there is to be a heaven for me and Thomas, it should be right here and now.

_And so Loki schemed to steal one of Idunn's golden applies. Since the goddess would be vigilant against any acts of magic on his part, the God of Mischief realized that he will only be able to get his hands on the precious fruits if he could convince Idunn to give them to him. Seducing the goddess was most distasteful to him; Balder's brother Höðr had been right in his assertion that Idunn was insatiable in bed and thought it an insult if her lover could not give her the pleasure and satisfaction she craved. Throughout their coupling, he had wooed her with promises of love and marriage, while keeping foremost in his mind the handsome visage of his mortal lover. To his immense relief and gratitude, the goddess gifted him with a golden apple, which she took from an ash wood storage chest. Loki did not waste any more time. Vanishing before Idunn's eyes as soon as the apple was laid on his palm, Loki used a spell which transported him through his secret pathway to Midgard._

_The sun had yet to rise when the Trickster arrived. Disguising himself as one of the elder druids, Loki proceeded to peel the apple and cut it into slices, arranging them in a star-like pattern on a wooden plate. Without its golden peel, the flesh of Idunn's apple was the same pale color as its Midgardian counterpart. He then brought the fruit to Thomas, who was toiling as always inside the library. The young druid had admitted to him that he preferred to work during the late evening hours up to dawn when the library was not disturbed by the comings and goings of his fellow priests. Sure enough, Thomas was copying a scroll, his curly blond head bent over his work. Even when Loki set the plate beside him, Thomas did not even look up and only muttered a word of thanks, engrossed as he was in the text that he was writing down. The Trickster watched with bated breath as the mortal reached for an apple slice and bit down on it, the golden juice glimmering on his lips._

_There was a crack of lightning. Before Loki could blink, the roaring energy of the Bifrost filled the library, and the frantic figure of the God of Thunder emerged from its crackling heart._

**_"LOKI! THE APPLE!"_ ** _Thor cried in warning._

_Behind the two gods, there were soft choking noises. Thomas had stood up from his desk, his right hand clutching his throat. As the apple's magic was activated, a golden aura suffused Thomas, starting from his feet, creeping up his legs and body, and going to his head._

_"It's alright, Thomas," Loki said in reassurance. "It's just the apple working its magic on you. Don't be afraid."_

_But Thomas was breathing hard, his body heaving to expel the fruit he had consumed."What did you do, Loki?" he gasped out. "Something…is…wrong!"_

_Thor seized his brother's shoulders. "Idunn…she knew you were deceiving her. That apple she had given you was cursed."_

**_"WHAT?!"_ **

_As Loki gaped in helplessness, the gold aura had completely enveloped the mortal. His horrified green eyes widened as Thomas was absorbed into its substance._

_Thomas reached a hand out to the shocked god. Despite the terrible pain he was in, he gave his Aesir lover a fond smile. "I'll be waiting for you on the other side, Loki."_

**_"THOMAS!"_ ** _Loki screamed, grabbing for the mortal with both hands, but he never got to touch even a finger as Thomas dissolved in a burst of golden sparkles._

_Despairing Loki fell to his knees, his whole body wracked with sobs._

_"Brother…" he heard Thor whisper mournfully beside him._

_Rage surged into the Trickster's heart like a torrent. Before the Thunder God could lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, Loki seized Thomas' sword, which was propped against the leg of the desk, and used a teleportation spell to whisk him back to Asgard. Locating Idunn's whereabouts was easy; she was in Gladsheim with the Allfather._

_As he materialized in the great hall, he heard Idunn rail at Odin, **"But I am the one wronged here! You have no right to interfere!"**_

_Loki gasped at the sight of his lover floating inside a green bubble of seiðr above Hlidskjalf._

**_"GIVE HIM BACK TO ME, YOU BITCH!"_ ** _he roared as he charged at the goddess with his lover's blade poised above his head to strike. Idunn unsheathed her own sword to meet his attack._

**_"ENOUGH!"_ ** _Odin's booming voice echoed throughout Gladsheim. He knocked Loki off his feet with a blast of energy from Gungnir's tip. Idunn made to charge at the fallen Trickster, but she was suddenly held back by Thor who appeared behind her and wrapped a brawny arm around her neck._

_"Bring her back to her orchard, Thor," the Allfather commanded his firstborn. "I shall mete out the appropriate punishment for her later."_

_Thor bowed grimly to his father as he dragged the protesting goddess along._

_Odin turned to his younger son, who was getting up from the floor. Before Loki could gather his wits, the Allfather laid his hand on the top of his head._

_"Father, no! Please! Punish me if you must, but not him!" Loki begged Odin as he never had before, feeling his body weakening and his mind draining of the happy memories of his mortal lover. A black void had opened up, fueled by the energies coming from the throne. With trembling hand, Loki reached out to his lover who was disappearing into the void. **"THOMAS!"**_

_Before the darkness of oblivion claimed Loki, the Allfather said to him, "Prove yourself worthy of this throne, my son, and your beloved will be restored to you."_

 

 

Grief-stricken as he was at the returned memory of his lover, Loki never heard the approaching footsteps of his brother.

 

Thor went down on his knees before the weeping Trickster. "Loki, do not mourn for him yet. Thomas…your mortal…he still lives."

 

"But Thor. He…he…"

 

"Just listen closely. I'm telling you Thomas is alive. He now possesses an Aesir's longevity."

 

"If that is so, then where is he?"

 

"He was, for millennia, slumbering in the void where Father had sent him. You shouldn't have deceived Idunn. Her curse is a complicated thing, and even the Allfather had difficulty in interfering in its initiation. Although Thomas is near immortal like us, he still retains the weak healing capabilities of a human. Thomas will never age beyond his 35th year. He will die a temporary death and disappear, his body going into the static void of Hlidskjalf in order to heal. Once he is well, he shall be reborn into a new time and place with no memory of what came before." Thor shook his head ruefully. "Idunn has trapped your lover in an endless cycle of life and death. His mortal soul will never be able to go to that higher plane for which it is meant. But Father delayed his entry into the cursed apple's cycle until you were worthy enough of the throne and his memory. Now that you remember Thomas, the cycle is now put into motion, and only you can save him. As we speak, he is in an alternate Midgard where we Asgardians exist only in myth."

 

Thor took out a small pouch. Opening it, he let drop into his palm the slices of the cursed apple which the Allfather had preserved and had entrusted to him.

 

At the sight of those slices, Loki pressed his hand over his eyes, his tears leaking through his fingers. "How can he be freed from this curse?"

 

"To be honest, I do not know. But, maybe, if Thomas were to stay alive beyond the age of 35…"

 

Wiping away the wetness from his face, Loki picked up a slice and smiled wanly at the Thunder God. "Forgive me, Thor. It seems you will remain the ruler of the Nine Realms after all." He then popped it inside his mouth, chewing on it slowly until he had consumed everything. Already, he could feel the pull of the apple's magic in every fiber of his body.

 

"Wish me good luck, Brother?" the Trickster requested of the Thunder God, his emerald eyes pleading.

 

Thor's eyes glistened with tears as he vowed, "I'll do more than that. I shall watch over you from Hlidskjalf. Or, if I am on Midgard or any of the realms, I will have Heimdall watch in my place. If you need me, just call my name and I shall come to you."

 

Loki nodded in gratitude. Before he faded away, he said, "Please tell the Allfather that I shall use wisely the knowledge that Asgard's throne had given me."

 

"I will, Brother," Thor sobbed, his brawny arms going around the dissipating form of the God of Mischief.

 

In a gilded chamber inside the Royal Palace of Asgard, a small, approving smile went up the corners of a slumbering Odin's lips.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

****

** Corioles, 493 BC **

 

Loki was running through the panicked streets, hoping to reach his home near the city gates and evacuate his family before the Roman army outside launched their attack.

 

 _How in Hel did I get in this predicament?_ He thought as he was nearly shoved to the ground by a terrified market seller carrying a basket of vegetables.

 

When he had awoken from the apple's spell, the Trickster found himself in the city of Corioles. Taking on the name of Lucius, Loki established himself as a scribe for hire, writing letters for the poor, illiterate citizens and composing documents for the city's merchants and upper class. In the ten years that he lived here, he married a homely woman named Aurelia, with whom he had a daughter, Thoria. Because of the length of time that had passed, Loki thought that he would never find Thomas in this particular lifetime.

 

Loki paused in mid-step when his heart pounded one hard beat, causing him to clutch his chest. As he glanced toward the gates, the mortal he was searching for leaped down from the ramparts, garbed in Roman armor. To Loki's horror, Thomas was all alone, without any Roman soldiers backing him. And yet, he fought with the ferocity of a lion, downing his Volsce assailants one by one with every swing of his sword. What felled him in the end was a head blow from behind with a club. Still, the mortal refused to give in to unconsciousness, remaining upright even while kneeling.

 

Before the Volsces could kill him, Loki threw his daggers, using his magic to ensure that they struck their targets. Running toward that dazed figure, he jerked him to his feet and half-led, half-dragged him inside his small house.

 

As he kicked the door open, his wife's eyes widened at the sight of the bleeding Roman.

 

"No questions, Aurelia. Please," Loki begged the woman. To her credit, Aurelia simply nodded and hastened to fill a basin with water which she gave to him, together with a clean cloth, before hastening into a room to see to their frightened daughter.

 

Wiping the blood away and sealing the cut on the mortal's head with seiðr, Loki whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion, "Thomas? It is I…Loki. Do you remember me?"

 

Although the mortal stared back at him, there was no sign of recognition in his blue gray eyes. "I know no other Volsce except for Tullus Aufidius. But you? Why are you helping me? Don't you know that I've come to lead the armies of Rome against you?"

 

"Yes. I've seen with my own eyes how you have cut down some of my people. But I am compelled to help you because you remind me of someone I knew," Loki replied honestly. "I ask you, My Lord, for the kindness and mercy that I have shown you, please spare my family."

 

"And I shall," the Roman gripped his shoulder reassuringly, smiling in gratitude. "This oath I make to you by my name…Caius Martius." The next moment, Loki was staring, with mouth agape, at the open door through which Rome's fiercest general and the bitterest enemy of the Volsces departed.

 

When the city was seized, Loki and his family were taken prisoner. Seeing Thomas—no, Martius—speaking with two other generals, he called out to him for mercy. To his dismay, Martius ignored his pleas.

 

Hours later though, the esteemed Consul Cominius sought him out to tell him that they were to be freed. "I would've found you sooner, but Coriolanus had forgotten your name. What he did remember though was your bright green eyes, like luminous jade, he said. He requested that I find you and grant you freedom."

 

"Where is he now? Is he well?" Loki could not help inquiring, his voice heavy with worry. Still, he felt a surge of pride inside his heart that his lover had been given the name of the city he had conquered. "May I see Lord Coriolanus so that I may convey to him my thanks?"

 

"Although he had sustained two large gashes, Coriolanus is fine. As we speak, his wounds are being tended to." The Consul whispered in his ear, "I shall have two of my trusted men escort you a good distance away from the city with provisions. We would not want your fellow Volscians thinking that you are a traitor. What you have done is a simple act of kindness for which the whole of Rome will be forever grateful." And Cominius indeed made good on his word. Not only were they set on the road to Volscian territory, they were also given a donkey laden with food and water. Loki was also handed a pouch filled with gold.

 

It was in Antium, where they settled, that Loki would see Thomas again. Through the machinations of the Tribunes, he was banished from Rome. Driven by the desire for vengeance, he had formed an alliance with Aufidius in a campaign to seize Rome. There were also rumors that Coriolanus and Aufidius had become lovers, rousing a pang of jealousy inside his heart.

 

Loki, however, knew that Aufidius' envy over the Roman's popularity with the Volscian troops was greater. Aufidius was a viper in the grass, waiting for one mistake before he struck. Many times, Loki attempted to visit Thomas at the Volscian lord's estate, but he was turned away every time. In the end, fear for the mortal prompted Loki to follow the Volscian army to Corioles, where they lay in wait for the command to attack Rome.

 

When he arrived, it was to find a group of women and a young boy dressed in mourning garb being escorted back to Rome. Upon inquiring with a soldier, he was informed that a peace treaty was being brokered between the Romans and Volscians by Coriolanus.

 

Instead of feeling relieved, sudden dread filled Loki's heart and he rushed inside the small building which served as the officers' meeting hall. As he barged through the door, he gasped, horrified, to find Thomas hanging by his ankles upside down from the ceiling, his body twitching violently as the blood from his severed throat poured down upon the face of Aufidius kneeling below him.

 

When the Roman's body stilled, Aufidius declared with profound remorse, "My rage is gone, and I am struck with deep sorrow." Turning to a shocked Loki, he commanded, "Take him up. Though he had widowed and orphaned many who, to this hour, continue to wail for their loss, he shall have a noble memory. Assist." With this, he stood up and left Coriolanus' body spinning in the air.

 

Trembling, Loki untied the rope and lowered Thomas to the floor. He took his lover's body in his arms, a keening wail bursting forth from his lips.

 

As the golden apple's magic claimed them, Loki kissed those bloodied lips. "Next time, Thomas. I promise I won't be too late to save you."

 

When Aufidius' men returned to retrieve Coriolanus' body, all they found was a length of rope and a puddle of blood on the floor.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

** England, 1403-1422 **

 

"Hurry, Lockhart! If it is true what they say about the Prince's facial wound, we cannot afford to waste any time!"

 

Loki rolled his eyes; he was, in truth, sprinting close behind his mentor, the Royal Physician John Bradmore. It was Bradmore who was out of breath as they hurried for the secret haven where the King's battlefield healers were tending to the wounded prince.

 

 _Hmph!_ The Trickster snorted. _The only reason why you have a thriving medical practice is because I've been healing your patients for you with my seiðr._

 

As apprentice Michael Lockhart, Loki had been patiently waiting for any sign of Thomas. If he were to base it on his previous experience with Coriolanus, he believed that the magic of the cursed apple had also trapped him within the same cycle that his mortal lover was in.

 

When they entered the keep, his heart gave that telltale lurch, and he nearly tripped at the threshold as he was seized by sudden dread. _Gods, please! Don't let it be him!_

The two doctors were immediately ushered into a small chamber. Loki's heart sank, seeing the familiar figure lying on the bed. Shoving an affronted Bradmore aside, Loki knelt beside his lover, using his magic to see just how deep the arrow had entered his face. After his examination, he knew what needed to be done and he conjured up the perfect instrument to use.

 

"Lockhart, step back from there," his mentor ordered, folding up his shirtsleeves.

 

"Listen to me, John," Loki said in a low hiss. "We need to extract the bodkin." He produced the special tongs from within the folds of his cloak. "Use this. Don't ask me how I came by this. Insert this in the wound so that the tongs fit into the arrowhead's hollow. Adjust the screws for the tongs' blades to widen so that it will have a tight grip on the bodkin's walls. Then pull it out." Noting the physician's frown, he exclaimed, "You can have all the credit for this. I don't care. Just get the damned arrow out of his face."

 

Bolstered by the prospect of a Royal Commendation, Bradmore took the tongs and carefully inserted it into the wound. He moved the instrument to and fro—all the while praying silently to God for guidance and completely unaware that he had the Norse God of Mischief by his side—until the arrowhead was safely pulled out. Bradmore hurried off then to prepare some healing ointments. With the physician gone, Loki proceeded to use his seiðr to close the ragged wound.

 

"Thomas, why did you have to be reborn as a prince of all people?" Loki grumbled in resentment. "And during a time of civil unrest even."

 

Somehow, the Prince of Wales roused from his stupor and stared dazedly at a pair of angry green eyes. "My name is Henry, not Thomas. It's my younger brother who's Thomas."

 

"Yes, I know you're Harry Monmouth, Prince of Wales, in this lifetime, but you will always be Thomas to me," Loki retorted back. "Why am I not surprised that you don't remember me yet again? Typical!"

 

Because of Loki's healing skills, Prince Hal survived that day and lived long enough to assume the throne of England after his father's death. For a while, the Trickster thought that his lover would be spared from the apple's curse. Great was his dismay though, when Thomas—now, King Henry V—at the prodding of the Archbishop of Canterbury and his father's dying wish that he focus his energies on quarrels in foreign lands—sought to claim his right to certain dukedoms in France. Thankfully, with Bradmore now old and unable to make the journey, Loki was sent in his place to serve as physician to the King.

 

During the Battle of Agincourt, the Trickster exercised his magical skills to their full extent. Seeing that the English army was meeting insurmountable odds, Loki conjured up a clone to watch over the sick and wounded while he marched onto the battlefield disguised as a soldier. In the heat of the battle, he would conjure up more clones, making certain that there was always a group of his doubles watching the King's back. Whenever one clone was felled, he would conjure up three more. Because he was fighting and using magic on blind instinct, Loki never realized that he had raised a formidable army of his own, bolstering the number of King Henry's troops. As a result, the English army won the battle with minimal casualties, compared to the ten thousand deaths that the French have sustained. Although Loki could not help despairing inwardly that his lover married Catherine of Valois following the Treaty of Troyes, there was still that hope that perhaps the curse had been broken.

 

But then, mere days after his thirty-fifth birthday, the King contracted dysentery. Despite Loki's best efforts to heal him, King Henry V died in his bedchamber at the Chateau de Vincennes. Although the monarch's body reeked of blood, vomit, excrement and death, Loki bent down and kissed him reverently, surprising the French Queen at his audacity.

 

"I'll do better next time, Thomas," Loki whispered. "This, I promise you."

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

** Tangier, 1529 **

 

As a rule, Loki preferred not to associate with other immortal beings. High on his list are vampires, more out of disgust for their insatiable appetite for blood. In the case of Eve, Loki had to make a rare exception.

 

Unlike the bloodthirsty and boringly morose members of her kind, Eve was always upbeat and bubbling with curiosity over the changing world, expressing her insightful opinions over dainty sips of blood in a small wine glass. It was this kind and understanding vampire who became Loki's constant companion when he was reborn to Midgard in the exotic city of Tangier.

 

Eve was the one who told him excitedly about a gifted young musician she had seen performing in a brothel in Tangier's slave market district.

 

"He looks exactly like you, Loki," the vampire exclaimed as she dragged him along the bustling evening streets. "But instead of curly blond hair, his is long, straight and black as night. So I'm not sure if he is your Thomas."

 

But when they entered the brothel—with its flickering red lanterns and torches and stifling atmosphere filled with the smoke of opium and hashish—Loki did not feel that telltale jump in his heart. Still, he remained hopeful that this musician could be his lover.

 

Eve was right though. The musician, Adam Daedalus, did indeed look like him. As he watched, mesmerized, the beautiful young man on that small, low stage played a haunting, lilting melody on his oud, his fingers plucking the strings delicately. Skilled as his missing lover, Loki wanted to believe that Adam was his Thomas reborn.

 

However, after much wrangling and an exchange of hefty coin purses with the brothel owner to allow them to meet the musician, it was Adam himself who told the Trickster point blank that he was not the mortal he was seeking.

 

"I am so very sorry," Adam told him in a soft, gentle voice which was so much like Thomas', "but I am absolutely certain that I am not the man you've been searching for." He hugged the wide body of his lute. "My family…they always thought me strange because I see and know things from my past and the future that no ordinary man should perceive. Because they could not understand me and provide the education that I needed, they…brought…me here. That is why I cannot be your Thomas because I **_know_** that I am not."

 

Despite his disappointing words, there was something about Adam which touched their hearts. The god knew that his vampire companion had fallen in love with this fragile mortal. On his part, there was this very strong urge to protect Adam in a way that he could not do for his lover. Thankfully, Adam shyly reciprocated the kindness and attention that Loki and Eve showered upon him by composing new songs for them and regaling them with the knowledge he had learned from the manuscripts and books which they would hand to him in secret.

 

But there was one thing which neither of them could teach him, no matter how hard Adam begged for them to do so. It was Loki especially whom he pleaded with the most.

 

"Why won't you show me how it is to love and be loved, Loki?" Adam wept to him one evening in frustration. "Could you not pretend that I am Thomas?"

 

Each time, Loki would refuse him, never telling the despondent young man that it was because he looked like Thomas that he dared not love him, knowing that he would be betraying them both. He never thought to ask Adam why he was so determined to learn the art of intimacy. And it was a mistake that the god would come to regret.

 

Unknown to them, the owner of the brothel—a devious hookah pipe-smoking Madam—had other plans for her talented performer which did not involve music. She had been making plans to earn a substantial profit from the unclaimed innocence of her beautiful young performer who was on the cusp of manhood.

 

One of the serving boys had rushed to Loki and told him what happened. Enraged, the Trickster went straight to the brothel and found poor Adam in the room where a Portuguese merchant and his exclusive clients had left him—beaten, raped, bleeding and unconscious. When he left the establishment with Adam wrapped in a cocoon of blankets, the musician's favorite instrument strapped to his back, with a wave of his hand, Loki burned the brothel down to ashes in a flash of green fire.

 

Eve roused from her morning slumber and was beside herself with worry and fear for the young man.

 

"He's beyond my power to heal, Eve," Loki confirmed as much. "Only you can save him now…if he will accept the Dark Gift."

 

To their relief, Adam agreed to be turned into a vampire. But before Eve could do so, he asked to speak with the Trickster in private.

 

"Loki," Adam began as the god sat down on the bed at his side, "I know how disappointed you are that I am not your Thomas reborn. You must be prepared for the fact that there will be certain lifetimes wherein your paths will not cross, and that you shall meet others, like me, who share the same face. Life is not a random thing; there are patterns which will help you to determine when there is a high probability that you shall meet again." He winced at the pain in his lower body. "I don't believe that Thomas has forgotten you completely. Wherever he is, everything he does will all be for the purpose of getting reunited with you. Have faith, Loki. There will come a time when he will remember you, although the returning memories may cause enmity and resentment to arise between the two of you."

 

Loki caressed Adam's cooling cheek and kissed his forehead. "I'm truly sorry, Adam, that it hadn't been me."

 

A tear trickled from the young man's dark eye. "Yes, that too is my regret. But…you will show me what it's like…between you and Thomas? Someday?"

 

"I will. I promise."

 

The last thing he saw before the apple's magic took him away was Eve leaning over Adam, kissing him sweetly, before she turned his head to the side and sank her sharp fangs into his neck.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

** Stratford-upon-Avon, 1597 **

 

Despite Adam's advice, Loki persisted in clinging to the hope that he will be reunited with Thomas at the next turn of the apple's cycle. But the young vampire proved to be right.

 

Still, the Trickster could not bring himself to despair, knowing that someone who had grown close to his heart would disapprove.

 

Peeking through the crack of the bedroom door, Loki watched as apothecary John Hall examined his good friend, now patient, the playwright William Shakespeare. Because of his magic, he could see, even from afar, that the bard was very ill with the pox, evidenced by the boils on his chest and the rashes on his hands. He listened as John recommended him to a colleague in London for a very risky mercury treatment and gave him a small jar of unguent for his sores. Loki's eyes narrowed, seeing Shakespeare take John's hand and give it a gentle kiss. There was no mistaking the glint of unrequited desire that the bard held for the young healer.

 

"You shouldn't have let him touch you with his infected hand, much more kiss you," Loki stated bluntly when John closed the front door after his departing friend.

 

"'Tis nothing that hot water and a good scrubbing with lye could not remedy," John said, shrugging, as he went off to his small surgery to wash. But the Trickster took his wrist.

 

"Allow me." Using his seiðr, Loki dispelled the taint of pox upon the younger man's skin. Cleansed, he lifted John's hand and kissed that healing palm before seizing his lips in a passionate kiss. "You should rid yourself of this damned mustache, John. It does not suit you."

 

This was a complaint that John had heard many times. "Or it did not suit he whom I resemble. You must know by now that I am not Thomas."

 

Loki released those lips with much pain and regret. "Yes. I know that now. But…"

 

"Loki, you don't have to stay any longer on my account. You owe me nothing…unlike me, who shall forever be indebted to you for teaching me medicine." John smiled sadly. "And also for loving me…in some way."

 

"I'm so sorry, John."

 

"It's alright. I understand. Now, go and find him." John could not stop the tears filling his eyes as the god began to dissipate into tiny gold sparks.

 

"Are you sure you're going to be fine, John?" Loki asked in uncertainty.

 

"I will live a long, fruitful life, Loki. This, I promise you. Goodbye, my love."

 

"Farewell," the Trickster whispered as the kind doctor faded from his sight.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

** England, 1842-1910 **

 

As the years passed, just as Adam had said, Loki began to perceive patterns in the apple's accursed cycle. There would be decades wherein he could not find Thomas, even if he scoured every corner of the world. He suspected that the reason for his absence was due to his body's healing from whatever it was that caused his death. The more serious the cause, the longer his body healed in stasis. Then, for another period of three to four decades, he would receive word of sightings, not only from Adam and Eve, but also from Thor as well. Sometimes, Loki himself would sense his lover's presence as a pleasant humming in the air or the usual abrupt skipped beat of his heart.

 

In 1811, Loki encountered a man who looked like Thomas, a gentleman named John Plumptre, who was wooing the niece of a writer acquaintance of his, Jane Austen. Even with the striking resemblance, he knew that Plumptre was not his lover; the signs just were not there.

 

Then, in 1839, Loki made the acquaintance of a certain Captain Robert FitzRoy while traveling on his ship, the HMS Beagle. The good captain told him about a brilliant young man who once sailed with them to the Galapagos Islands on a scientific expedition. His theories on evolution and natural selection fascinated FitzRoy, so that the man in question left him with one of his scientific notebooks to read, which the captain intended to return when they made port in England. Seeing that familiar scrawl in the notebook's weathered pages, Loki wanted to believe that Charles Darwin was his lover reborn. Although he never had the opportunity to meet him, the Trickster came to accept that Darwin was not Thomas, having lived beyond 35 years old and died at a ripe old age of 73.

 

Loki predicted that he might encounter Thomas between 1842 and 1845. Although he did not want to raise his expectations, the god was in for a big surprise when, in 1844, while working for the railway company of a Captain Brown in Cranford, who should approach him than Thomas himself, going by the name of William Buxton.

 

"Pardon me for asking," Thomas began shyly after introducing himself, "but have we met before? You seem very familiar to me for some reason."

 

As excited as he was to reveal his true identity to his lover, Loki reined in his emotions and, instead, shook the mortal's hand. "No, I'm afraid not. But I am very pleased to meet you, Mr. Buxton."

 

"William, please! I'm just an intern here."

 

"I'm Loki…" The Trickster stopped before he could give his formal Asgardian introduction. "I mean, my name is Locksley."

 

A glowing smile formed on Thomas' face which caused Loki's heart to flutter. "I think I prefer to call you Loki. You have this air of mischief which I find charming."

 

In the days that followed, as much as there was this fierce desire to press his affections upon Thomas, Loki chose instead to become his good friend and confidant, especially seeing how much he loved Peggy Bell. Or did he? There were moments wherein he would find Thomas gazing at him longingly while they supervised the work on the railway. Sometimes, the young man would reach out and hold his hand while walking side by side. Both were clear signs that his lover was unknowingly remembering the bond that existed between them.

 

One late afternoon, Miss Matty Jenkins, the most respected member of Cranford, came hurrying to Thomas to inform him that Peggy had chosen to accompany her embezzling brother Edward to Canada. Taking a horse, he rode off in pursuit of the train that his fiancée was riding in; Loki followed after him. They both arrived in time to see the train crash into a cow which had strayed onto the tracks. While they aided Peggy and the passengers to safety, the locomotive suddenly exploded. Loki was barely able to raise a protective barrier around Thomas, who sustained an injury to his left arm. With the help of the doctor and a little of Loki's magic, Thomas healed in no time and married Peggy after a few weeks. As much as it broke Loki's heart to see his lover wedded to another, there was some small relief inside him that the apple's curse might be finally lifted with his happy marriage.

 

However, this was not to be the case. Loki would learn days later that the newlyweds died when their ship sank in a storm while on the way to their honeymoon in Scotland. Speechless, the Trickster could only sigh helplessly as he dissolved in a burst of golden sparks, the letter informing him of Thomas' death falling to the floor.

 

It was in 1900 that Loki would be briefly reunited with Thomas. This time, he was reborn with his true birth name—an Englishman named Thomas Sharpe who recently married a wealthy Bostonian heiress, Edith Cushing, for her money to fund a coal mining project of his. However, with his seiðr, Loki soon discovered what his lover was truly up to. In the bowels of his mansion, near the mountain the locals called Crimson Peak for its bright red color during sunset, Thomas was building a device powered by dark energies capable of inducing a Convergence of the Nine Realms. The ghosts and monsters which reportedly haunted the Sharpe mansion were beings from the other realms which were briefly visible through the portals. Just as Adam had told him, his lover was unwittingly trying to find a way to return to him.

 

Loki arrived just in time to find a terrified Edith being led away from the crumbling mansion by her ardent suitor, Dr. McMichael. Ignoring their warnings not to enter, Loki dashed inside the house. Thomas stood in the center of the tumult; the portals to the Nine Realms hung above his head, pulling in the mansion's furnishings and debris.

 

 ** _"STOP IT, THOMAS!"_** Loki shouted above the deafening whoosh of the portals' suction and the crash of wood against stone. **_"YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO THIS!"_**

 

Thomas whirled then, and for the first time, Loki saw the stunned look of recognition in his blue gray eyes.

 

"Loki?" Thomas asked, disbelieving, his right arm lifting slowly toward his lover.

 

The Trickster reached out as well, moving closer and closer. "Yes, Thomas, I'm here. There's no need for you to open the portals anymore."

 

Loki was so close to Thomas now. Just one stretch and he would have his lover's hand in his grasp.

 

From out of nowhere, a woman lunged at them. It was Thomas' sister in this lifetime, Lucille. As she wrapped her arms around her brother's waist, the glamour that concealed her true features dissolved, revealing the enraged face of the goddess Idunn.

 

"There shall be no happy endings for you and your lover, Loki," Idunn vowed, her golden tresses whipping through the violent energies of the Convergence. "You will never break my apple's spell. Not if I have any say in it."

 

 ** _"IDUNN, NO!"_** Loki made to seize his lover from her. With her great strength, Idunn tossed Thomas into the very heart of the maelstrom, where the energies and winds started tearing his body to shreds. Loki jumped in after him, embracing and shielding him from the destructive forces, even if he knew that both of them will be ripped apart.

 

Before they perished, the two men exchanged loving kisses.

 

"I won't forget you anymore, Loki. I promise."

 

"And I swear I will find you again, my love."

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

** France, India & England, 1914-1975 **

 

Two World Wars tore the lovers apart just as surely as the artificial Convergence that Thomas had created and the pervading effects of Idunn's accursed fruit.

 

In Quievrechain, France in 1914, Loki and Thomas found themselves in opposing armies. The Trickster was in the German camp when his lover and the British army attacked them in a surprise cavalry charge. Loki was among the young soldiers assisting the gunners in reloading the machine guns when he saw Thomas heading toward them on his war horse with sword pointed forward. Loki tried to stop his gunner from firing, but it was too late. Helpless, he could only watch as Thomas' bullet-riddled body fell from the horse and landed on the blood-soaked field. Before the apple's magic claimed him, Loki passed on Thomas'—no, Captain James Nicholls'—packet of letters and horse sketches to a British soldier whom he helped escape.

 

The god should have enjoyed a brief respite from war when the Twenties roared in. However, stunned at repeatedly witnessing his lover die through violent means, Loki nearly spent the 1920s in a daze of grief and guilt, if it were not for another man whom the Trickster had mistaken for Thomas.

 

The Trickster was walking along the late night Paris streets in 1923, heading for the Polidor. As he neared the café and wine shop, he almost bumped into a blond-haired man with a crooked nose and dressed in what was obviously a 21st century brown, checked suit, who ran past him in obvious excitement and delight.

 

Pushing the door open, Loki saw the man he had come to see emerge from the backdoor of the Polidor, the annoyance evident on his handsome face.

 

"Can you believe that Zelda?" he exclaimed to a dark-haired, mustached man who was slouching lazily against the oak partition behind him. Dragging back the wooden chair opposite his friend, he huffed, "She really went off with that blasted toreador!"

 

"I told you that woman is no good for you," the dark-haired man said with a cluck of his tongue, "but you never listen to me."

 

Loki went to the two men's table. "There was this guy who bumped into me outside—ratty brown suit, blond hair, misshapen nose. Who was he, Scott?"

 

"A writer named Pender. Gil Pender, if I remember correctly," F. Scott Fitzgerald answered in his usual nonchalant manner while grabbing a glass of bourbon from a passing waiter's tray. He lit a cigarette and was about to take a long drag from it, but the disapproving god pulled it from between his lips, snuffing it out on the ashtray. Loki also took his bourbon and downed it in one gulp. Taking the hint, Ernest Hemingway too stubbed out his cigarette and finished the remainder of his brandy. Sighing in defeat, Fitzgerald continued, "Judging from the unique style of his clothes, I'd say he's a...traveler…just like you, Serrure."

 

"I thought so too," the Trickster agreed with him. Indeed, Pender's suit was cut in the style that the men wore in the alternate Midgard where Jane Foster was from. Loki turned serious. "Scott, you really should sit down and have a talk with your wife. The reason why she's flirting with Juan Belmonte is because she thinks you're cheating on her."

 

Hemingway laughed, shaking his head at the same time. "Well, Zelda is right to suspect you of adultery, although it's not with another woman, am I correct, my friend?"

 

"Shut up, Ernest," Fitzgerald replied morosely.

 

Noting the awkward silence that fell between the two men, Hemingway raised both hands in surrender. "Fine. But, if you truly love her as you claim, you must end this little affair before Zelda does something drastic. At present, the rumors say that it is you and me who are in a relationship, Scott. Not true, of course. You really are not my type. Still, I could not help but envy the fierce passion between the two of you. However, is this…love…between you genuine? Real or not, I very much approve of Serrure here. He's been a good influence on your writing, not like your wife." Seeing the scowl Fitzgerald was throwing his way, the writer wagged his right hand in dismissal. "Pay no mind to my rambling. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to contact Gertrude Stein before she arrives from Spain. Our time-traveling Mr. Pender wants her to critique a novel that he's writing." Giving both men an exaggerated bow, Hemingway stood up and sauntered off, albeit a little tipsily.

 

When Loki and Fitzgerald were finally alone, Scott asked quietly, "Do you regret what we've had between us, because I don't."

 

"Scott…" Loki started to say, but the writer lifted a halting hand.

 

"When I found you, lost and roaming the streets of Paris, you mistook me for your lover. Seeing how depressed and lonely you were, I took you in, housed you in a private apartment lest you do something stupid as take your own life."

 

"Scott, I don't want you to think that I've been using you, made you a replacement for Thomas. Or perhaps I did…at first. But, in the brief time that we've been together, I learned to love you."

 

"And I, you," Scott admitted. "But as the cliché goes, all good things must come to an end." Loki was taken aback by the writer's statement. Seeing the shock on the god's face, Scott clarified, "It's not because of you. I've been denying it for quite some time now, but Hemingway's right. Zelda and I...we're not good for each other, but I can't just leave her, knowing that she needs me."

 

"I…I understand." Loki reached over and took Scott's hands, leaning forward to give the writer a lingering kiss. "Thank you—for restoring my courage and teaching me to hope again."

 

"You are most welcome. When you're out there searching for him, just be careful, okay? I must have been in Ernest's company for far too long. I could sense war in the horizon," Fitzgerald advised, smiling. As the god stood up to leave, Scott declared, "By the way, I'm working on the plot of a new novel. I hope you won't mind if you're the inspiration for it."

 

"As long you don't make me into the lovesick, melancholic bastard I once was," the Trickster laughed.

 

"You shall be an absolute rogue, but still prone to bouts of lovelorn melancholia, that I assure you." Scott lifted his hand in goodbye. "Farewell, Serrure…or should I say…Loki."

 

"Au revoir, Scott," Loki bade his lover goodbye as well, as he stepped out of the Polidor and reentered the cursed apple's cycle.

 

During the brisk campaigns for the British General elections in 1935, the god chanced upon Randolph Churchill, who was campaigning as an Independent Conservative. Although Winston Churchill's son closely resembled his lover, the absence of the telltale signs convinced Loki that Randolph was not Thomas.

 

In 1942, the god would learn about Thomas through some reports that he had gathered for British intelligence on the origins of the Nazis' brutal extermination of the Jews. Among those stationed at Wannsee in Germany during that secret conference was his lover, who served as a communications officer.

 

1944 saw the two men reborn in India and, to their relief, fighting in the same regiment, as captains Kyle Lochlan and John Randle. They both died after a suicide attack on a Japanese bunker in Kohima. Loki had been the first to fall, and he watched with great pride as his lover charged the bunker alone, threw a grenade inside the narrow slit, and covered the opening with his own body as the bomb exploded.

 

They lost touch with each other for the entirety of World War II. It was only when they were reunited in Rio de Janeiro in 1952 after the war that Loki learned what happened to Thomas while they were apart.

 

"I was an RAF pilot," Thomas narrated to him over a cup of coffee in a small roadside café. "This man…Freddie Page…whom you see before you now." He sighed deeply. "I've seen so much death, Loki. Men, women, and children tortured and killed. Soldiers getting shot or blown up in explosions, with instant death for most and days of agony for others. I've even seen valiant men sacrifice their lives to save me. Yet, I've done nothing meaningful in this life to honor their memories." Disappointment flitted over his face. "That's why I could never forgive Hes for what she did. She knew what I had gone through. How could she think her life to be of so little value that she would end it because of me?"

 

"I don't have an answer to that, Thomas," Loki told him truthfully, knowing just how painful it was for his lover to remember the woman, Hester Collyer, he had left behind in London. Patting his battered copy of _The Great Gatsby_ on the table, the god still felt a lingering ache inside his heart for F. Scott Fitzgerald. "For the many centuries that I had lived, I could never fathom the mysteries of the heart." He took his lover's hand and squeezed it tenderly. "It is this same love that has kept me going, you know. The hope that I will be reunited with you."

 

"Yes, I know that. But life has a way of exhausting the human heart, and I am so very, very tired, Loki. Of hoping again and again only to be disappointed in the end." Thomas let out a wry laugh. "Ironic. I'm just like Hes in a way, aren't I? That I'm always hoping that you'll be there for me and, every time, you fail to save me from temporary death."

 

"It's not going to last forever, Thomas. I will find a way to break this curse."

 

"Will you, Loki? Will you save me from this endless cycle of rebirth and death?"

 

Two days after, Loki received word that Thomas died when the fighter plane he was testing crashed somewhere in the Mantiqueira Mountains.

 

The Trickster never realized, however, the extent of damage that had been wrought upon his lover's fragile psyche through the passage of centuries and the seething resentment that had been eating up his heart at the god's inability to free him from the curse.

 

Loki would much later discover this when he and his fellow London police officers stormed the Royal high-rise in 1975, which had been the source of strange noises and bizarre acts of vandalism reported by the tenants from the new residential building within the compound.

 

Inside the high-rise, they were shocked by the hundreds of decomposing bodies that littered the hallways and staircases. More grisly were the bodies dumped in the 10th Floor swimming pool, their flesh either torn off by pets turned wild or delicately sliced through with sterling silver dinner knives by its few surviving tenants who have resorted to cannibalism.

 

It was Loki who found Thomas—now going by the name of Dr. Robert Laing—hiding in a barricaded apartment on the 25th Floor. He was sitting on the floor with a plate on his lap, filled with the bones of the dog he had eaten. On either side of him were the dead bodies of his older sister, Alice Frobisher, and another tenant, Eleanor Powell. Thomas confessed that he had murdered them by injecting them with large doses of morphine.

 

"They were going to banish me, Loki, even though I hunted and cooked for them, kept them safe," Thomas mumbled to him as he carried his insane lover down the stairs. "I let them fuck me too in whatever way they wanted." Tear-filled blue gray eyes gazed up at Loki with hope and longing. "You're not going to send me away too, right, Loki? I'll let you fuck me if you let me stay with you."

 

"I won't fuck you, Thomas," Loki replied, swallowing down his tears. "But I will let you stay with me. I'll take care of you. I won't let you out of my sight."

 

In retrospect, the god should have accepted his lover's offer. Perhaps, in some twisted way, a simple fucking could have assured him that he was still needed and loved.

 

Loki would never know, because that same night in the hospital, Thomas took his own life by injecting himself with a full vial of morphine which he had swiped from the medication tray at the Nurse's Station.

 

Written in blood was a short, angry message that could not be mistaken for anyone else, but for him.

 

**_"I HATE YOU!"_ **

~~~~~~~~~~

 

** Living And Dying Through Europe, 2007-2011 **

 

Loki decided not to seek out Thomas during the remaining decades of the 20th century. He wanted to give his lover the time and space to heal his broken mind. It was his hope that the sweeping changes in the world as it marched toward the 21st century will enable him to find peace and new purpose in his life.

 

The Trickster could not be more wrong.

 

In 2001, Loki accompanied his friend Lorimer Black to a party that was hosted by Sir Simon Sherrifmuir. Great was his shock to discover that Thomas was reborn as Sherrifmuir's son, Toby. Thomas was just as stunned to see him. But, when the god reached out to shake his hand, his lover glowered darkly at him and stormed off.

 

When their paths crossed again in Tuscany, Italy in 2007, Loki was confronted by an angry, teenaged cheeky bugger named Oakley. He had heard about how his lover had cruelly treated a lonely middle-aged woman—his aunt's close friend—who was seeking love and attention from him. Loki would not allow Thomas to do the same to him.

 

Needless to say, they ended up arguing beside the pool one balmy, starlit evening.

 

"I won't have you take your frustrations out on me! I was the one who was searching for you all these years while you moped and whined about how cruel life was to you!"

 

"Moped? Whined? This Hell I'm in is **_ALL…YOUR…FAULT!_** If I'm fucked up now, it's all because of you! The least you could do is take responsibility for this damned mess you caused!"

 

"You want me to take responsibility? Okay! I'll take responsibility…for **_THIS!_** " Loki pushed his lover into the swimming pool, never noticing that the water was being drained.

 

And, just like that, Thomas died from a cracked skull, this time, by Loki's hand.

 

Only a year later, Loki would find himself scowling down at Thomas who lay inside a makeshift tent in the backwoods of Little Stempington, smoking the special pot that was given to him by his girlfriend of dubious repute, Jewel Diamond.

 

"You look pretty pleased with yourself, Thomas," Loki growled, his voice seething with jealousy. "Did you enjoy your 'first time'? And what's that you're smoking?"

 

"My name is Bill, Lucky…Bill Hazledine," Thomas reminded him, blowing a smoke ring in his face which caused the god to cough. "I'm actually mighty pleased, thank you very much. As for this…" He glanced down at the cigarette in his hand. "I am using the hallucinogenic properties of marijuana and opium to rid myself of the memory that **you** **_killed_** **me** last year."

 

"I thought that crack to your head would restore some sense into you, but I was mistaken. Gods, why did you have to be reborn in Little Stempington of all places? All the women here are gangsters. Your dear girlfriend is a gangster-in-the-making. Do you know how many men she had slept with both before and after meeting you?"

 

"I don't choose when and where I shall be born again. And you're certainly not a role model of faithfulness yourself. This whole mess started because you diddled with Idunn…"

 

"To get a golden apple for you!"

 

"Which I never needed!"

 

Loki rolled his eyes. "Go back to Africa, Thomas. Right now."

 

"What on earth for?"

 

"If you haven't noticed, the crime rate in this town is quite high. I don't want you dying in a hail of machine gun fire or a grenade explosion."

 

To his dismay, Thomas shook his head. "No way! I am perfectly happy here!" He even shooed the outraged god off. "Run along, Lucky. I don't want Jewel to see you."

 

It was Jewel Diamond who was the ultimate cause of Thomas' demise when a French gangster blew up her mother Camilla's warehouse, while he was retrieving a bag full of bribe money which she had swiped from her Mum. Loki would have put a bullet into Jewel's head if it were not for the fact that she was carrying his lover's child.

 

Before the mortal died in the hospital, Thomas' grumbling retort to the god's snide "I told you so" was **_"SHUT UP!"_**

 

Unfortunately, these two words would be ignored by the Trickster when he and his lover were reunited in 2009 in a restaurant in Tresco in the Isles of Scilly.

 

"You told me to go back to Africa. Now that I **_am_** going, you're telling me to stay? Would you **_PLEASE_** make up your mind?" Thomas exclaimed with arms akimbo.

 

"I just have a bad feeling about this," Loki explained while filleting a five-pound mullet. "I'll tell you what. If I promise not to stuff your obnoxious sister with perfectly cooked guinea fowl, would that convince you to stay?"

 

Outside, an irritating voice declared, " ** _EDWARD!_** Please tell the chef, instead of the vegetable soup, I'll have chicken well-done."

 

 ** _"YOU ARE NOT CHOPPING UP MY SISTER!"_** Thomas cried, as he pulled his murderous lover into his arms before he could march out of the kitchen with cleaver in hand.

 

Loki would regret not being able to mince Cynthia into anchovy-sized bits. He would find out days later that the service helicopter crashed into the sea, taking Thomas and his family with it. According to the few survivors, Cynthia apparently harassed the pilot who did not notice that his engine was malfunctioning.

 

In 2011, Loki glowered at his lover behind a desk in the Ystad police station. "You really want to die, don't you."

 

Thomas was industriously rubbing his desk plate—with his current name of Inspector Magnus Martinsson—with metal polish. "I've already gotten used to it, Loki. Besides, if I'm going to die, I'd much rather that it happens while I'm protecting or saving other people."

 

"The only reason why you're here is because you want to get away from Inspector Kurt Wallander whom you despise with all your heart," Loki remarked dryly. "Well, at least I'm glad that you transferred to my department. Perhaps now, I can watch your back properly."

 

Thomas laughed as he stood up, wiggling his jeans-clad behind at the ogling Trickster. "You mean watch my **_butt_**!" He holstered his gun and clipped his badge to his belt. "Come on, Inspector Lokean Laufeyson. We have a drug ring to bust."

 

Three hours later, they both lay bleeding to death on the wharf, shot by the drug runners they were apprehending.

 

"You really should find a way to end this damned curse, Loki," Thomas moaned between gasps of pain. "Dying is getting to be quite a drag!"

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

** Detroit, 12 July, 2013 **

 

"What are you mumbling and grumbling about over there, Adam?" The two vampires had just arrived from Tangier, after receiving word that the police were no longer pursuing the case of Ian's mysterious disappearance.

 

Adam closed the trunk of the taxi and paid the driver, who promptly got back into his cab and drove off. "I don't understand why you're always bringing suitcases full of books. It's not as if you could do any reading while you're staying with me. I think **_you_** should do **_me_** a favor next time and help me carry my instruments."

 

"Darling…" Eve began, crossing her arms before her chest, trying in vain to look stern although she was close to bursting into laughter at the irritated puppy expression on her husband's face. "Books are easy to carry in airplanes. Your instruments and recording equipment, on the other hand, are too expensive to ship, and might not even pass customs. Besides, we're not that wealthy, you know. If you wanted some of your vintage guitars shipped to Tangier, we could have Jamie Macmillan sell the mansion in London."

 

 ** _"NO WAY!_** That mansion is where I spent a lot of time with Shelley, Byron and Mary. I'm not having a sleazy real estate salesman of a zombie like Macmillan selling it off to some asshole who will turn it into a parking garage. The only reason why you're so taken with him is because he looks like me."

 

"No, actually, I was thinking that he might be Loki's missing lover, Thomas."

 

"You saw Thomas?" A hope-filled voice spoke up behind them.

 

The two vampires whirled to behold a teary-eyed Loki sitting at the stoop of Adam's dilapidated mansion.

 

"Loki?" Eve gasped in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

 

"And to answer your question, Macmillan is **_not_** your Thomas," Adam quickly interjected.

 

"Oh." The god sniffled pitifully, causing the vampires to frown. "I need your help. I really don't know what to do anymore."

 

"Oh, sweetie! What happened?" Eve exclaimed, hurrying toward the Trickster and cooing to him as though he were a lost child.

 

Realizing that he was left behind with his wife's heavy suitcases, Adam pouted and picked them up, hurrying at their heels.

 

As an afterthought, Loki commented, "Your garden reeks of piss, Adam."

 

The vampire could only roll his eyes.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

**_"WHAT A DRAG!"_ **

 

A whiny Loki parked himself on Adam's plush, but musty couch inside the vampire's living room-cum-recording studio.

 

The Trickster never noticed the appalled look on Adam's face when Eve mumbled to her lover, "I'll be in our room, unpacking our luggage," and made her quick escape, just when he needed her. Not that he could blame her. She had been patiently putting up with his whining throughout their year-long stay in Tangier. He doubted if she could take anymore from an equally despondent Aesir.

 

"Maybe you're going about this the wrong way," Adam put in, trying not to let his irritation show. "For centuries, you've been trying to stop Thomas from dying and it never worked. Have you thought to consider other options?"

 

"What other options are there?" Loki asked, his eyebrows knitted together in a dark frown.

 

"Thomas is always sure to die before he gets past the age of 35. The way I see it, you should either stop time or stop him from aging. No, the golden apple doesn't count," the vampire interrupted the Trickster before he could offer that suggestion again. "It gives you long life, but in actuality, it merely slows down the aging process. Besides, it was that damned apple that started this whole mess to begin with."

 

"Honestly, I was going to ask if you could turn him."

 

"What?! With the very poor quality blood sources that we have right now? Everything is contaminated, especially zombies."

 

"I was thinking he could drink my blood."

 

"Well, we don't know exactly what Asgardian blood can do to a vampire."

 

Loki gave Adam a sly, seductive grin. "We could find out. After all, I still owe you a fuck."

 

At that suggestion, Eve's mischievous head popped up at the side of the doorway. "Oh, goody! Can I watch? I could set up the camera in the bedroom and record it, if you don't want a live audience."

 

"Eve, you will do no such thing," Adam began warningly, only to gasp when the Trickster scooped him up like a virgin bride to be deflowered. **_"LOKI!"_**

 

"The bedroom, Eve," Loki declared in determination. "It's time I showed your husband how we Asgardians do it."

 

Two days later, Loki lay face down on the bed, completely exhausted, his pale body covered with tiny fang marks.

 

"Adaaaaam, noooo," the god moaned, feeling teeth sink into the swell of his buttock.

 

"Sorry," Adam replied, not the least bit apologetic as he licked the blood that trickled from that taut mound.

 

From the other room, Eve chimed, "Adam, we're all out of recordable DVD discs! Should I go out and buy more?"

 

"Please," Loki groaned out. "No more."

 

"If I'd known that you were the cure for Adam's depression, I would've called you up sooner. Maybe I wouldn't have had to put up with his frequent bouts of existential crisis all these centuries," Eve pointedly added.

 

"I'd die from the blood loss," Loki grumbled, burying his face into the pillow.

 

Adam chuckled, pressing his blood-stained lips to the small of the Trickster's back. "Who'd ever thought that Aesir blood can increase a vampire's sex drive? I think I'll turn your Thomas after all, so we could have a threesome. That would surely delight Eve."

 

**_"Don't even think about it!"_ **

 

Adam stretched his body languidly like a cat and settled full-length beside Loki. "Well, since you've given me such a nice treat, I'll give you some information that you'll be happy to hear and a little hint on how you might possibly solve your dilemma."

 

"I'm listening," Loki turned his weary head to the side to gaze into the vampire's limpid black eyes.

 

"A very reliable source in the entertainment industry told me that your Thomas will be in the Zombie State of the U.S. of A this 20th of July up to August. He's become quite a popular actor, your lover, and he'll be promoting two of his movies there. I have already taken the liberty of acquiring all-access passes for you. My contact will have them ready for you at the front desk of the Hilton San Diego Bayfront Hotel where Thomas will be staying."

 

The Trickster perked up at that helpful information. "And your hint?"

 

"I could still be wrong, mind you, but…" A cryptic smile quirked up Adam's lips. "You might be interested in learning more about the second film that Thomas is promoting."

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

** To San Diego & Anaheim and Beyond, 20 July-9 August 2013  **

Loki stared in stunned silence at the 7,000 people that have filled Hall H of the San Diego Convention Center. How did his lover get so popular and, of all roles, why did Thomas play **_him_**? But, he already got the answer to the last part of his question from the fans who have mistaken him for Thomas.

 

"We love Loki because Tom Hiddleston made us understand him," one voluptuous fan dressed in a Lady Loki costume gushed when he inquired about their near fanatical obsession. "He is such a lonely, tormented soul. We can't help not liking him."

 

 _Ah, yes! Appealing to the human inclination to protect the oppressed,_ thought Loki wryly. _Shrewd, Thomas. Very shrewd._

 

What Loki could not deny, though, was that this fervent fan adulation was boosting his seiðr. Because of this, he was able to sense a malevolent presence in Hall H. Surely Idunn was not thinking of killing Thomas in front of his fans!

 

Loki made his way backstage. Thomas was there, dressed in an exact copy of the god's Asgardian raiment, getting ready to get up on stage. The Trickster would have rushed toward his lover and kissed him, but now was not the time for it. The movie's producer Kevin Feige had already gone out to greet the cheering crowd.

 

Pushing past security, Loki headed straight for Thomas, who stared back at him in confusion.

 

"Loki? What are you doing here?"

 

"You mustn't go out on that stage, Thomas. Idunn sent an assassin to kill you."

 

"I can't back out! Those people out there have lined up for hours. I'm not going to disappoint them."

 

"Do you want to traumatize them for life when they see you die? I'm not arguing with you anymore." Loki snapped his fingers and turned off the power in the hall. Because of the sudden darkness, Thomas never saw that the Trickster had grabbed his mic headset on the table and marched on stage.

 

Using magic to project his voice through the hall's speakers, Loki intoned with measured slowness, "Humanity…look how far you've fallen." A few disbelieving screams resounded. "Lining up in the sweltering heat for hours. Huddling together in the dark… ** _like beasts_**!"

 

Loki let the lights flash open, allowing him to see the unmistakable golden aura of not one but four of Idunn's assassins, who have disguised themselves as female fans. Switching on the stage lights above, he pointed at the shrieking audience, pausing minutely but unmistakably at each killer. Pressing his finger to his lips, he hushed the fans to silence.

 

"I am Loki of Asgard," the Trickster introduced himself, "and I am burdened with glorious purpose." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one assassin creeping up on him from the right side of the stage, unseen by all the mortals. Loki whirled to the assassin, pointing at her. **_"Stand back, you mewling quim!"_** he commanded, letting fly a dagger. Feige, who followed his command thinking it was part of the act, never knew just how close the dagger missed his ear. Neither did he see the assassin vanish in a burst of sparks when she was struck by the sharp blade.

 

One by one, as he made his proud speech, Loki downed the assassins—every sweeping gesture of his hands, every point of a finger conjuring up daggers which struck their targets. When he had annihilated all of Idunn's assassins, Loki felt a surge of pride inside his heart at his accomplishment.

 

Preening delightedly, he egged on the crowd, "Say my name."

 

"Loki!'

 

_"Say my name!"_

 

_"Loki!"_

 

**"SAY MY NAME!"**

 

**"LOKI!"**

 

**_"SAY MY NAAAAAME!"_ **

****

**_"LOKIIIIIIII!"_ **

****

The deafening cheers of the crowd nearly blew him off the stage. But what touched the god was the heartfelt cry of **_"My wife loves you!"_** from a man in the crowd. He gave the gentleman a small blessing before declaring, "It seems I have an army. **_Feast your eyes!_** "

****

As he went backstage, Thomas was shaking his head, although a smile was threatening to curl up his pursed lips. "You're pretty proud of yourself."

 

"Actually, I am," Loki said smugly. Then, he took his lover in his arms and kissed him with ardent passion and relief. "By Odin, I finally saved you."

 

In the days that followed, Loki would alternate with Thomas at the fan convention. And the mortal just did not have the heart to begrudge his lover this. With everything that they had gone through over the past centuries, this was the first time that they had been truly together and they wanted the fans to share in their joy. The evenings, however, were spent in the quiet of Thomas' hotel room, indulging in sweet and passionate lovemaking for it was this twining of limbs and joining of bodies that they missed most of all.

 

However, both men never forgot the threat of the apple's curse which continued to hover above their heads.

 

Loki awoke in their Anaheim hotel room to hear his lover singing a catchy little song.

 

_Hey Ho!_

_Imagine the places that we'll go._

_No one can stop us when we're so high_

_In the stratosphere_

_Hey Ho!_

_We'll be the freighter that plunders_

_Every one of the world's seven wonders_

_When we're up in the skies,_

_For who can fight a frigate that flies?_

_No one can fight a frigate that flies!_

 

He cracked one eye open to find a listless Thomas setting out their breakfast on the dining table. His lover was trying to perk up his mood by singing the pirate song from his movie, but failing all the same.

 

The Trickster stood up naked from their bed, went up behind Thomas, and hugged him close. "What's the matter, love?"

 

"It's not over yet, you know," Thomas reminded him. "I'm only 32 years old. Idunn can still kill me at any time."

 

"Well, I'm not giving up. Adam told me that there might be a way for me to break the curse, and it has something to do with your second movie. Frankly, I don't see what fairies and pirates have to do with the curse."

 

Thomas craned his head back and gave him a sweet peck on the cheek. "I hope you'll figure it out. If not, there's always a next time. Come on. Let's eat and get dressed. We'll be late for the Expo."

 

For much of the Disney animation presentation at the Anaheim Convention Center, Loki was very distracted, his mind focused on their seemingly eternal dilemma and Adam's cryptic hint. Even when Thomas went up on stage with his fellow actor Christina Hendricks to promote their animated film and sang a popular tune from a previous movie _The Jungle Book_ , the Trickster continued to mull on the matter of Idunn's curse.

 

It was while Thomas was talking about his character, cabin boy James, that Loki's head slowly went up, his knitted eyebrows rising with every word. When Thomas said, "His real name…is Captain Hook", all the pieces of the puzzle that was Adam's hint clicked into place.

 

Captain James Hook…Tinker Bell…Peter Pan…

 

When the Q&A started, Loki did not waste anymore time. Conjuring up a microphone of his own, he stood up from his seat and marched halfway down the center aisle.

 

"I don't have a question but I want to make a request of Tom Hiddleston, if he could please indulge me," Loki declared, an impish grin on his face.

 

On stage, Thomas frowned down at him, wondering what sort of mischief he was up to. "And what may I do for you?"

 

"Could you please sing that song you were singing earlier in our hotel room?" the Trickster begged him earnestly. "That pirate song. Let me hear it, please."

 

There were curious mumbles in the audience at the mention of the words "our hotel room". Thomas, however, did not notice this, perplexed as he was by his lover's request. He looked questioningly at Disney CCO John Lasseter, who went up on stage and said, "Sure? Why not? We are actually going to present a rough animation cut of that particular song. Let's play the video and Tom will sing with it."

 

The fans' approving cheers nearly brought down the rafters, while Thomas continued to scowl at Loki, who simply mouthed two words— ** _"Trust me."_**

 

The lights in the hall were dimmed and the video was played on the screen behind the actors. Loki could not contain his joy, seeing the distinctive lines of Captain Hook's frigate. As the instrumental opening played, the god nodded imperceptibly to his lover, and Thomas began to sing.

 

_First the Tower of London, arr,_

_The guards won't know what hit it_

_We swoop right down and take the crown,_

_And the crown jewels with it!_

_And when we fly to Paris,_

_All the treasures I'll be grabbing -_

_The Mona Lisa will look lovely_

_Hanging in me cabin!_

 

Startled gasps arose from the audience as sparkling gold fairy dust covered the movie screen. As they watched, the frigates' lines became bold and the white spaces in between filled with color.

 

At the part of Thomas' solo, Loki unleashed the full force of his magic.

 

_Oh, how high we will be,_

_'Cause the blue fairy dust surely packs a mighty wallop_

_Soon it will set us free_

_From the chains of gravity_

_Then we'll hoist up the sail_

_And we'll set course for the sun_

_'Cause when you've got wings_

_No wicked deed cannot be done_

_And we owe it all to our great and glorious captain!_

 

 

The ship itself solidified as Loki poured all his seiðr into his creation. A puff of blue fairy dust followed and, to Thomas' astonishment, the frigate emerged from the screen, its sails billowing from the power of the magic that was blowing through it.

 

Then, Loki materialized beside his lover, taking him by the waist. One moment they were on stage, the next they were standing on the bow of the ship. They were immediately met by the grinning faces of the pirates, who were looking at them expectantly.

 

"You have our course, Mr. Yang?" Loki asked the burly Oriental.

 

"Aye, aye, sir!" Yang saluted the two men as he took his place at the helm. The others rushed to unfurl the other sails of the ship, all the while singing cheerfully.

 

_Hey ho!_

_Imagine the places that we'll go._

_No one can stop us when we're so high_

_Give 'em a pirate cheer, yes! (Arr!)_

_Hey ho!_

_We'll be the freighter that plunders_

_Every one of the world's seven wonders_

_When we're up in the skies,_

_For who can fight a frigate that flies?_

_Hey Ho!_

_There's not a town or a county_

_That will not yield its bounty up_

_When our ship draws near_

_Hey ho!_

_There's not a city or village_

_That we will not plunder or pillage_

_When we're up in the skies_

_For who can fight a frigate that flies?_

 

"Let's go, Thomas," was all that the Trickster said and the frigate sailed upwards in glorious majesty to the pirate's song.

 

_And every nation_

_Will give a donation,_

_When they see us in the skies,_

_In the frigate that flies!_

_Oi!_

 

At that last word, the ship passed through the ceiling like a ghost and sailed off into the morning sky.

 

Thomas' mouth was agape as he gazed at the city below. "Loki…what…how…"

 

"I finally figured out how we can break the curse," Loki beamed with great pride. "Adam was right. It's either I stop time or I stop you from aging. Obviously, I cannot stop time, but I can arrest the aging process at least until you are 36 years old. And the only way I could do it is by bringing you to the one place where no one ages and no one dies." He chuckled. "After all, to die would be an awfully big adventure, as we both know all too well."

 

Thomas was flabbergasted. "Loki, you're not telling me that we're going to…"

 

But the Trickster nodded. "Yes, Thomas. We are going to Neverland. Don't worry about your Midgardian commitments. I've created a double to take your place until we get back. He'll also erase the memories of everyone in the hall. They won't remember how a pirate ship flew out of a movie screen. All they'll remember is you singing 'The Bare Necessities'."

 

The mortal's interest, however, lay in their destination. "Wait! There really **_IS_** a **_Neverland_**? You're not pulling my leg are you?"

 

"Neverland is actually a very tiny realm beyond the branches of Yggdrasil, governed by its own kind of magic. Idunn's curse will not affect us there. Then again, even I won't be able to use my seiðr there, but I'm sure we'll survive. It's only three, four years after all. Thor has plotted the course for us. It's…"

 

"The second star to the right and straight on 'til morning. Even I can tell you that." As the frigate soared into the clouds, Thomas draped his arms over Loki's shoulders. "So…since we have a pirate ship, I guess this means I'll be Captain Hook. I voiced him in the movie after all."

 

"Actually, this is **_MY_** ship," Loki corrected him. "But, you can be my Wendy though."

 

"Oh, Loki!" Thomas' smile took the Trickster's breath away. "Before long, you'll have yourself a treasure trove of thimbles."

 

Loki understood what his lover was saying. Kissing Thomas with joy and relief that they were finally free from the curse, he whispered, "And I'll be hoarding each and every one of them."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Web of Life in Which We are Entangled](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3438608) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account)




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